Supreme Court Delay On Lapointe Puzzling

Richard Lapointe has been in prison since 1992 after being convicted of raping and killing his wife's grandmother in a widely questioned trial.

Richard Lapointe has been in prison since 1992 after being convicted of raping and killing his wife's grandmother in a widely questioned trial. (Stephen Dunn / Hartford Courant)

Kevin Rennie: High court takes its time with Lapointe appeal as he goes into old age in jail

Few homicide cases can be resolved in the 60-minute television format that shapes much of the public's impressions of murder investigations and prosecutions. The "Serial" podcast phenomenon that examined the 1999 murder of Baltimore high school student Hae Min Lee and the 2000 conviction of her classmate and ex-boyfriend Adnan Syed has been provided an extended and vivid example of how complicated some prosecutions for murder are.

A 1987 murder in Manchester has entailed almost two decades of litigation, decisions, revelations and disputes. Eighty-eight-year-old Bernice Martin was raped, blinded and murdered in her Manchester apartment, which was then set on fire. Richard Lapointe, husband of Mrs. Martin's granddaughter, was convicted of committing the murder in 1992.

Lapointe was sentenced to life in prison for the capital murder charge and eight other felonies. Lapointe has been burdened with a congenital brain disease known as Dandy-Walker syndrome. He has had poor eyesight for much of his life. He lived in Manchester and worked as a dishwasher at the time of the murder.

Lapointe's conviction seems to have come on the strength of a controversial 1989 confession made after 91/2 hours of interrogation. The session and the confession were not recorded. Today that would render the confession in these circumstances inadmissible.

Years of unsuccessful appeals focused on Lapointe's compromised mental condition and his diminished ability to understand the interrogation and confession. In 2012, Lapointe got a break when a Connecticut Appellate Court panel ruled unanimously that a critical piece of evidence that had not been disclosed to Lapointe's defense team could have raised reasonable doubt with a jury.

The evidence was a police note on a conversation with a fire investigator on the time and duration of the fire set in Bernice Martin's apartment. Lapointe's lawyer, Paul Casteleiro, told The New York Times that the information about the fire raised the prospect that Lapointe would have had 15 minutes to walk from his apartment to Bernice Martin's apartment, "rape, stab and bind the victim; wash off all evidence; set fires in three separate locations; and then walk back to his home."

That proved persuasive to the appellate judges, who ruled Lapointe deserved a new trial. The enduring standard of requiring proof of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt to convict a defendant of a crime is one of the pillars of justice in American life. State prosecutors appealed the Lapointe decision to Connecticut's Supreme Court. It heard arguments in September 2013. More than 15 months after the appeal was argued before the state's highest court, there's still no decision in the Lapointe case.

Lapointe is nearing 70 and has never been in robust health. The Supreme Court's delay in issuing a decision in this case risks extinguishing justice if an innocent man has been imprisoned for decades. A new trial, should Lapointe and his advocates prevail at the high court, will take more time in preparation.

Whatever the court's decision on the appeal, the delay in writing an opinion and releasing it feels unjust. This should not be happening in the Constitution State.

The inexplicable delay provides a timely reminder that who becomes a judge and how the person becomes a judge are critical to maintaining the integrity of the judicial bulwark that guards our rights. Much of what happens in appellate courts occurs out of the public eye, as do critical elements of the judicial selection process.

Every candidate hoping to become a judge must first win approval of the Judicial Selection Commission, a 12-member board whose members are appointed by the governor and legislative leaders. Government finds ways to keep secrets in this information age. The Judicial Selection Commission meets in secret, and its votes on applicants are also out of the public view. The members of the commission do not require legislative approval to serve on the shrouded board.

The commission's independence is compromised by its history of having legislative employees and lobbyists among its members. It is a nest of winks, nods and trades. The imperative of reform will become more urgent as its dubious work becomes public with another round of judicial appointments in 2015.